Step-sister Hiccups
The door to his room creaked open without a knock. His step-sister slipped inside, closing it quietly behind her. She was already in her usual nighttime outfit—an oversized t-shirt that barely reached mid-thigh and nothing underneath. She walked straight to the edge of his bed where he was sitting with his laptop, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.
“Please,” she started, voice soft and pleading. “I just need a little money. Forty, maybe fifty. I’ll pay you back next week, I swear.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, biting her lower lip the way she always did when she wanted something. “Come on… you’re my step-brother. Help me out?”
He leaned back against the headboard, studying her for a long moment. A slow, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“I’ll give you the money,” he said calmly. “But only on one condition.”
She perked up immediately. “Anything.”
“You don’t start hiccuping.”
Her eyes widened just a fraction. She knew exactly what that meant. She had always been able to trigger her own hiccups on purpose—something she’d discovered years ago and occasionally used to get out of awkward situations or just to mess with people. He had noticed. And now he was using it against her.
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. A tiny, almost involuntary twitch ran through her diaphragm. She herself to stay still, hands clenched at her sides.
“I… I won’t,” she whispered.
He watched her carefully, the money already in his hand, held just out of reach. “Prove it.”
She swallowed hard, fighting the urge she knew how to summon so easily. Her chest rose and fell a little faster. The longer she stood there under his gaze, the harder it became to keep the hiccups from starting. He didn’t move. He simply waited, fully aware that she could bring them on the second she decided to—and that he was holding the money until she either succeeded in stopping herself… or failed.
A small sound escaped her throat as the first faint spasm threatened to break through. She pressed a hand to her stomach, eyes locked on his, trying desperately not to give in while he sat there, completely in control of the situation.
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